The Daughter Yet to Be
by Jeune Ecrivain
Summary: A girl with a remarkable resemblance to Lana Lang appears as if out of nowhere in the Kawatche caves one night. The Kents soon find out that the circumstances of her presence in presentday Kansas is so bizarre it could only happen in Smallville. UPDATE
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: The television series "Smallville" is owned by the WB. Characters on which it is based are owned by DC Comics and were created by Jerry Siegler and Joe Schuster. This fanfiction is purely for entertainment, and no profit is being made from it.

**The Daughter Yet to Be**

**By Jeune Ecrivain**

**Rating: PG-13 (just to be safe)**

**Summary: A girl with a remarkable resemblance to Lana Lang appears as if out of nowhere in the Kawatche caves one night. The Kents soon find out that the circumstances of her presence in present-day Kansas is so bizarre it could only happen in Smallville, as is the simple quest she has undertaken out of necessity.**

Martha Kent stood before the living room sofa, a cup of coffee in her hands. She watched with a gentle yet somewhat perplexed look on her face as the still figure slept soundly on the couch. The figure was a girl of about sixteen with large, doe-shaped eyes and long, raven hair. She had yet to show any sign of consciousness since Jonathan had found her lying cold in the Kawatche caves late the night before.

Jonathan was concerned, and she knew it. But he had good reason to be. He had gone to the caves to see for himself the symbol on the wall that matched one Clark had told him Lana had on the small of her back. But he was greeted by the last second of a flash of eerie light and the appearance of Lana herself unconscious upon the ground.

After all attempts to solicit a response from the girl, Jonathan had promptly placed her gently in his truck and driven home in silence. Martha was puzzled when he carried Lana into the house, but the explanation Jonathan had given her offered at least as many questions as answers. Weary, the Kents had placed her upon the couch and used Martha's old heirloom blanket to keep her warm. As they did so, they had found that, on closer inspection, this was not Lana Lang. The resemblance was uncanny, perhaps even eerie, but there was still something about her looks and countenance that made a slither of a distinction, hardly noticeable to the lazy eye.After whispering a few preliminary speculations to each other, the Kents had then retired to get whatever sleep they could under the circumstances. Clark was unfortunately away on a college campus tour. He wouldn't be back for two more days.

Martha's gaze perked up as the Lana look-alike stirred slightly, and a folded newspaper clipping emerged from her hip pocket and fell to the floor. As if on cue, a shiny stone also dropped from her hand.

Martha stepped up softly and bent over to pick the two objects up. What she found in doing so raised her concern level significantly. On the stone was carved what looked like a Kryptonian symbol. She gazed at it with a discerning eye, realizing that another paranormal incident seemed to be hitting Smallville. But what caught her eye next would make the stone and its symbol pale in comparison. At the top corner of the newspaper clipping was the date: June 15, 2026!

Martha stared at the newspaper, stunned. She then glanced at the article. It read, "Local Researcher Discovers Time Portal." Now, she was downright bewildered. It couldn't be! But then again, this was Smallville, the world's only Mayberry/Area-51 hybrid town. Before Martha tried to figure anything out on her own, she rushed out to the barn to find her husband.

Jonathan was baling hay, but his mind was anywhere but on the farm. He was also pondering what had happened last night, and his intuitive squeamishness wasn't helped by the expression his wife wore as she walked up to him.

"I found these in the girl's pocket. She stirred a little, and they fell," she said, trying to sound as calm as possible.

Jonathan took the evidence she held out to him and looked. What he saw stunned him no less than his wife. His eyes darted back and forth between the stone and the clipping, trying to make sense of it all. No, he thought. It's not possible!

"Is this a Kryptonian symbol?" he finally asked gravely.

"It sure looks like one," Martha observed.

"Then I suppose we can't rule anything out," her husband replied reluctantly. "Jor-El has managed to do things just as strange."

"Do you think she's for real?"

"I don't know. What I do know is we're going to have to be careful. She may not even know where she is, though, with this article, she may have some idea."

"This all seems so...surreal," Martha said in exasperation. "It's impossible!"

"I know, honey. But we of all people should know that the realm of what we think is possible is always subject to change."

Martha nodded. "So...who do you think she is?"

Jonathan shook his head. "I have no idea. If our suspicions are anywhere near correct, she doesn't even exist yet...or, at least, she's not supposed to."

"Do you think Clark can do anything?"

Jonathan pursed his lips. "This probably has something to do with Krypton, so he may be this girl's only hope, but...God, Martha, I hate to get him involved in anything remotely Kryptonian. Nothing good ever comes out of it."

"What do we do in the meantime with a girl from the future?" Martha asked, growing frantic. "How do we help someone like this? And you and I both know even Clark won't be able to solve anything immediately!"

"Clark can't know," a third voice stated with urgency.

Jonathan and Martha turned to find the Lana look-alike standing at the barn entrance, gazing at them with a calm yet somewhat pleading expression.

Jonathan was the first to find his voice. "I don't want to be rude, but who are you?"

The girl swallowed. "My name is Megan," she said slowly.

"Do you know what happened to you?" asked Martha gently, a certain maternal instinct taking over.

Megan sighed. "Look, you guys have obviously figured out a lot, so I'm going to level with you as much as I think I can," she said, looking at them as if asking them to accept it.

Jonathan nodded, and Martha half-smiled at her.

"First of all," began Megan almost as if every word was a critical choice, "I am from the future. I have to be. I'm sort of...on a mission."

"On a mission to do what?" Jonathan asked, his sympathy growing.

"To save my own existence," Megan replied forlornly. "Let's just say some real nutcases are trying to keep me from ever being born. They sent someone back here to distract my mom and alter the timeline so that she doesn't marry the man who's meant to become my father."

"What's this guy's name?" Jonathan asked cautiously.

She swallowed, knowing the Kent's knowledge of any future events should be minimal for the purpose of preserving the natural course of things, but also knowing that she could not long pursue her quest under the Kent's protection without them knowing the identity of her adversary. Almost whispering, she finally uttered, "Jason Teague."

Jonathan and Martha exchanged glances.

Martha approached Megan deliberately. "Lana Lang...is your mother," she said, voicing the revelation that both she and her husband were still struggling to grasp.

Megan nodded, and in a hushed voice muttered, "Yes."


	2. Chapter 2

**The Daughter Yet to Be**

**Chapter 2**

"Megan," began Jonathan tentatively, "I certainly understand the need for secrecy in order to maintain the natural course of events as much as possible, but…under the circumstances, do you have any relatives that maybe…would understand why this has happened…even at this point in time…and be able to help you."

"Not that you're not welcome to stay with us," Martha added quickly as she led Megan up to Clark's loft.

Megan sighed, giving them a solemn look. "I wish it were that simple, but any of my relatives having even just the knowledge that one day I'll exist may change the future." She turned her eyes away and chuckled sardonically. "Listen to me. I'm already referring to my own time as 'the future.'"

Martha looked at Megan with compassion as she took a seat on the couch next to her. She seemed so lost…yet so unshaken. Either she was putting up a brave face, or Megan was just a very brave girl. Martha wouldn't have been surprised if it were the latter. After all, Lana was a very brave girl.

"It's especially critical that neither one of my parents know who I am," Megan continued. "It's like…if they knew that they would one day have a daughter, they might get too confident in the fact that they're going to stay together. Then, they may not put as much effort as they would have into building and maintaining the relationship…which could lead to a break-up…which means I don't exist."

"I never would've thought of that," admitted Martha in awe.

"I know," Megan said thoughtfully. "It's scary, to say the least," she added with a nervous chuckle. "I'm already taking a risk letting you guys in on my secret, but I don't think I have much of a choice." She looked up at them, a new expression of regret showing on her face. "I'm so sorry to burden you with keeping this secret for me," she said.

"Don't worry about it," Jonathan said. "We Kents know how to keep our mouths shut."

"But how do we explain you to our son, anyway? He's quite fond of your mom, and I think he would notice a girl who looks just like her in the house."

Megan pondered. "Tell him I'm…a cousin that Mom doesn't know about. Maybe I was given up for adoption, and my birth mom just found me or something."

"It'll need work," Jonathan observed, "but I think we can pull something like that off."

"Great!" said Megan with almost undue cheer. "When will your son be back?"

"In about two days," answered Martha.

"Oh, that long?" Megan asked, slightly surprise. "In that case, it may not even come up because I'm hoping to have done what I need to do and be gone sooner than that."

"Tell me something, if you can," said Martha gently. "In the future, do the three of us know each other at all?"

Megan pursed her lips, hesitation dancing in her eyes for a split second. She then replied with a small smile, "Yeah. We do. Pretty well, actually."

Martha responded with a small smile of her own. "I'm glad. It's a shame you can't stay for a while longer than you obviously intend to, but at least I know I'll be seeing you again sometime to come."

Megan nodded. She then grinned sideways at Jonathan.

Jonathan half-smiled back. "What?"

"Where I come from, your hair is much more gray," she teased.

Martha laughed.

Jonathan chuckled and ran his hands through his dusty blonde hair.

"But don't worry, Mr. Kent," Megan reassured him. "You don't look half bad as a silver-head."

"Gee, thanks," said Jonathan, not sure what else to say to a compliment on his future self.

An awkward silence ensued for a few moments before Martha stood up. "Well, I have to go check on dinner. Feel free to join us if you're hungry."

"Oh, trust me, I'll be there," Megan replied with a nervous chuckle. "Until then, I need to…collect my thoughts, anyway."

Jonathan proceeded to follow his wife down the old wooden loft stairs. "Well, if you need anything, we'll be in the house.

Megan smiled warmly. "Okay."

The Kents soon disappeared from view, leaving Megan alone with her thoughts. She knew she should be coming up with some semblance of a plan, but instead she just let out a heavy sigh, stood up, and walked idly to the railing at the front of the loft. She stared off into space, thinking about everything she wasn't telling Jonathan and Martha. Though she felt a little squeamish and even guilty for keeping such pertinent information, she also knew that it just wouldn't be right for them to know. Lost in her thoughts, she explored the loft, which was ironically quite familiar to her, as her concentration slowly turned from idle sentiment to dealing with Jason Teague and anyone else who may have come to the year 2004 to influence her family history and essentially kill her in a way no law can punish.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Lex Luthor was certainly not the most qualified person in the world to talk about how to treat women. His recent experience with a murderous ex-fling, still fresh in his mind, had made that all too clear to him. Even more convincing was Clark Kent's visible disappointment in a friend for whom he had a diminishing amount of respect when the maturing farmboy had discovered the raunchy rap sheet of the young tycoon he had once admired.

Yet perhaps that was why Lex was sitting alone inside his rebuilt Scottish castle pondering over whether or not he should put the evidence he had in his hands to their logical use. Perhaps it was a form of atonement. He had flipped through the dozen or so photos so many times he hardly paid attention to what he was actually seeing. Instead, the focus in his eyes was on a seemingly elusive decision he had to make rather than a tangible external object.

Lex Luthor had before him the records of Jason Teague's night out at a Metropolis pub. Jason's behavior, as the pictures testified, would've seemed completely out of character to a more naïve observer. But to the forever skeptical Lex Luthor, they were only a confirmation of his suspicions. _You can only hide your true nature some of the time_¸ Lex mused as his eyes once again grazed over pictures of Jason French-kissing a rather voluptuous blonde at the club, then continuing the passionate make-out session in what he thought was a private nook of the club, and finally exploring her figure avidly with his hands. The last picture showed the couple beginning to rid each other of their clothing in Jason's car.

As soon as Clark had shared his knowledge of Lana's secret relationship with a legal adult and how Jason had followed her back to Smallville, Lex immediately became concerned. Clark may have been naïve enough to believe that Jason had sufficient genuine affection for Lana despite his seniority, but Lex Luthor knew better. Without hesitation, Lex had dispatched one of his many clandestine staff members to "keep an eye" on Teague.

Lex felt an odd sense of duty towards Lana, almost as if he were an older brother to her. So, when the pictures and the notes arrived on his desk, he had wasted no time in taking action. In retrospect, perhaps it wasn't the best course of action, but at the time he thought it was the best way to minimize the emotional pain that Lana was almost sure to endure if she found out the hard way.

Lex had promptly reported Jason's relationship with Lana, thereby making the authorities put pressure on Jason to break off his ties with her. Meanwhile, Lana would obviously be hurt when Jason was forced to break up with her, but at least she wouldn't feel cheap and used like she would if she knew he truth. In all likelihood, or so Lex had thought, it would be easier for Lana to get over it.

But it hadn't quite worked out that way. To Lex's surprise, Jason remained stubbornly at Lana's side, putting on a frustratingly good pretense of being a victim who was determined to overcome all obstacles for love. In one last attempt, Lex offered Jason a job at LuthorCorp. Jason Teague, in all truth, didn't even really need an interview, though he attended one. Lex had every intention of giving it to him. Once he had Jason under his wing, Lex would use the job as collateral to "persuade" Jason to either come clean with Lana or clean up his act.

But then, the nightmare-inducing virus had struck and disrupted his plans. Now, Lex was almost out of options. He had to either present the evidence to Lana and tell her himself or wait for the whole relationship to blow up in Lana's face when she inevitably catches Jason in an act of infidelity. Either way, a girl who had already been through enough to put the average Jane in therapy for years would be in for a real emotional pitfall.

"It's a tough decision, ain't it," a gruff voice interrupted his thoughts.

Lex looked up with a start to find a slightly stocky man with a natural expression that reminded him of Morgan Edge standing over him in a trench coat. Two burly henchmen flanked the imposing figure.

"Who are you?" asked Lex with his usual calm yet somehow intimidating tone. "I'm not the type to allow total strangers into my home."

The stocky man chuckled arrogantly. "I've never seen you so young, Lex! Don't you remember me?"

"I think I would remember someone with your disposition," Lex observed dryly.

The man shrugged with a nonchalance that Lex found disconcerting. "Who am I kidding? You can't remember a person you haven't met yet." He extended his hand. "Vincent Edge."

"Any relation to Morgan Edge?" Lex asked, tempted to role his eyes at the stranger's wry attempts at small talk.

"You always were a blunt one, Lex. Even in your youth, apparently."

"Do I know you?" Lex asked, annoyance creeping into his tone.

"No," Vincent said with his contemptuous nonchalance. He then grew serious. "But you will." He snapped his fingers, and his two henchmen subsequently drew out matching pistols and aimed them straight at Lex.

Lex showed no fear. "How did you get past security?"

Vincent snarled. "By methods you have yet to invent."

"I don't have time for this. Whatever business you have with me, just state it. After all, it's not like I seem to have much choice in the matter."

"Then listen up!" Vincent barked. "We know you're thinking about giving a certain young woman information that will no doubt prompt her to end her relationship with Jason Teague. We're here to make that decision a lot easier for you."

"I hardly see how a teenager's relationship should be of any import to men such as yourselves," remarked Lex coolly.

"You don't have to," Vincent said sternly. "All you have to do is keep that gigolo's antics to yourself! If you do, we won't see each other again for another…oh, about thirteen years. If not, we shall be dropping by…much sooner than that."

"Do you have any idea who you're dealing with?" Lex almost snarled.

"Oh, I do. I know how your mind works, Luthor. And let me assure you that we have ways of outsmarting even your most talented legal minions. The fact that we so easily bypassed your security measures should testify to that."

"And if I go to the police?"

Vincent once again chuckled arrogantly. He pulled from his trench coat a stack of photos and, stepping behind Lex as his henchmen gestured at him to sit still, held them in front of his face. "Two can play the P.I. game," he said. "My, my! You're not exactly a picture of techno-ethics, now, are you, Luthor?"

"You're blackmailing me?" Lex queried, making more of a statement than a question.

"I figured what better way to tie Lex Luthor's hands than to use his own methods against him."

"I have never blackmailed anyone."

Vincent Edge nodded. "No, you haven't…Not yet." He snapped his fingers, and his two muscular henchmen approached him with their pistols. One put the barrel of his gun to Lex's head. "I woudn't assume any ignorance on our part, either. We have what we call nanocameras planted in all the logical places you'd go. They go beyond what even the top experts would be able to detect."

Lex remained as calm as he could. He was not about to give them the satisfaction of seeing any trace of fear or weakening resolve on his countenance. "How do I know you're not bluffing?"

Vincent smiled with evil pride. "Perhaps we forgot to give you a glimpse of exhibit number fourteen." He pulled a from his packet and presented it to Lex.

Lex's eyes fell upon the picture, and though his face didn't twitch. Inside, his mind was racing. At the root of his thoughts was one question: _How?!_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"I know what you're thinking," Jonathan Kent said in a knowing and resigned tone as he sat down next to his wife.

Martha, who had taken a particular interest in the surface of her coffee that morning, looked up at her husband with a start. Megan, who had eaten like a horse at dinner the previous evening, had yet to wake up from sleeping in Clark's room. She had offered to take the couch in the loft, but Martha had insisted on a genuine bed. But just because Megan was, for the moment, ought of sight did not by any means mean that she was out of mind. After a modest breakfast, Martha had fallen into a reverie over her morning cup of Folger's, and Jonathan knew exactly what that reverie was about.

"Lana has a daughter," Martha observed with an uncharacteristic wryness. "In her time, Chloe probably has kids, and Pete, and maybe even Lex. But Clark…"

"Martha," began Jonathan gently, "I don't want to get your hopes up, but at the same time we don't know anything for sure. We have no idea about Clark's…compatibility…with women. And even if he's not naturally, there may be something that can be done. As much as I hate to think of Jor-El in any remotely positive light, maybe one day Clark will master his mysterious technology. Then, he might be able to use it to make it possible for a human to bear a Kryptonian child. We may yet have a grandkid or two."

"Yeah, but the odds are so discouraging," Martha sighed. "Jonathan…to be honest,…do you remember that time when those men came after Clark for that sample of his blood that Morgan Edge hired him to steal and Clark had to actually cut himself to try to get them to go away."

Jonathan nodded slightly, scowling at the memory.

"Well, horrible as it was, I…couldn't help but feel a little relieved…when he cut himself…and what came out was actually red."

Jonathan gave her a sad and empathetic smile.

"I feel like a bad mother for even thinking that at a time like that."

"It's okay for you to want Clark to be as biologically similar to humans as possible," Jonathan reassured her. "The only way that could become a bad thing is if our love for hime changed according to that, and I know neither one of us would ever let that happen."

"No, of course not," Martha conceded. "I just…wish I knew…right now…if Clark would ever be a family man. I mean, I'm not so sure we did him a favor by giving him such a family-centered upbringing,…because we may have instilled in him yet another desire that may never be fulfilled.

"Martha…don't go regretting how we raised him. I think we did a fine job, especially given Clark's uniqueness," Jonathan paused, searching for the right words. "If we had raised him without the sense of family he has, I don't think he would be quite as level headed as he is. And God knows, he of all people needs a level head."

"Jonathan…I see it in his eyes every day. He wants to have a friends and a girlfriend that can be honest with and not have to hide who he is. He wants to eventually get married, and I just know that…when he really let's his imagination loose…he even dares to think about what it would be like to have kids. And at the same time, he knows his chances are slim. It just…pains me to see him like that."

"It's not easy for me, either," Jonathan admitted. "But, you know, he can always go with a Kent family tradition and adopt."

Martha smiled at him gently. "Yeah. That's one comforting thought I have. I'm sure Clark would be a great and loving father whether the kids who called him Dad were actually related to him or not."

"But there's still a little something to be said for being able to have kids of your own," Jonathan finished her thought for her.

Martha nodded.

"We just have to cross our fingers and…hope for the best," said Jonathan quietly.

"Knowing that Clark will do the right thing, no matter what," his wife added.

A knock at the back door interrupted their thoughts. Jonathan rose to his feet, but no sooner was he erect than he took a step back. Through the small window in the door, he recognized Jason Teague, the very man whose mission Megan had come to thwart. Martha's slightly opened mouth demonstrated that she recognized him as well. She exchanged a glance with Jonathan, wordlessly reminding him of Megan's instruction, given just the past evening, to act natural if they should happen to encounter Jason.

Controling the urge to give Jason a piece of his mind, Jonathan decided that standing in front of the door with a bemused look on his face was not acting natural. He stepped forward, gripped the doorknob, and opened the door.

"Hello, Mr. Kent," said Jason with his usual politeness that, until the previous day, had fooled the Kents into thinking highly of their son's football coach. "Mrs. Kent," he added with a nod in Martha's direction.

"Hello, Jason," Martha said quickly to spare her husband the risk of saying something he would later regret if he opened his mouth.

"What brings you to the farm?" Jonathan finally managed to say with as much false hosptiality as he could muster.

"I, uh, actually have a message for my star quarterback."

"Clark's visiting Kansas State," Martha informed him.

"Yeah, so I heard. I hope he gets in," said Jason.

"Thank you," Jonathan said ambivalently.

Jason nodded. "Anyway, could you just tell Clark that next Thursday's practice has been moved to Friday. Normally, I'd just ask one of his teammates to tell him, but since he's still just a little bit new to the team, I don't think any of the other team members know how to reach him on his cell."

Martha had a passing thought that, were Jason genuine and not a time traveler hired to get rid of an innocent girl, she would've promptly given Jason Clark's cell phone number. But, seeing as Jason wouldn't be around much longer (at least, she hoped), she really didn't want to do anything explicitly benevolent for the enemy, even in the name of feigning ignorance.

Jonathan opened his mouth to confirm the date, but he was stopped by the ring of Jason's cell phone. Taking it off his belt, Jason's eyes grew serious as he looked at the screen that identified the caller.

"I'm sorry," he chuckled nervously. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to take this outside."

Jonathan was quick to open the door, secretly wishing Jason's exit to be permanent. "Sure," he said.

"Thanks," replied Jason as he stepped out.

Jonathan resisted the temptation to slam the door and closed it.

Outside, Jason swiftly brought his cell phone to his ear. "What?" he asked, sounding a little irritated.

"We need to meet," came Vincent Edge's cold, gruff voice from the other end.

"Again?" Jason responded, puzzled. "What happened?"

"YOU happened!" Edge almost yelled, catching Jason by surprised. "You gigolo! We're not paying you to go back in time so you can see how many times you can get laid before you technically even hit puberty!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Ol' man Luthor, or more appropriately, young man Luthor, has pictures of some of your wild nights out at those clubs!"

"How did he do that?"

"You don't know Lex Luthor very well, do you?" Edge observed irritably.

"Look, I'm no idiot. I make sure I have all bases covered so Lana doesn't suspect a thing. I keep track of our dates, and if she happens to come to Metropolis, I have a tracking device on her so I'll know."

"He was considering ratting you out to her," Vincent informed him sternly. "You could've jeopardized the entire operation!" he roared.

Jason massaged his forehead. "Five million dollars," he chanted to himself softly.

"Okay, fine. Where do you want to meet?" he said, returning the cell phone to its post beside his mouth.

"In the warehouse next to Luthor's old plant. It's not so old yet, so beware of employees creeping around," Edge answered, intense irritation still sounding in his voice. "And Teague…"

"Yeah?"

"If you screw this up, you'll be dead before your own fifth birthday!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The not-so-old LuthorCorp warehouse stood ominously on the sparsely vegetated field. Almost contradicting the otherwise barren landscape and uninteresting gray edifice was a perfectly level concrete road leading up to the main entrance. It was up this road that a blue pick-up truck rolled, decelerating as if to stop smoothly and then giving a final jerk as it stopped. Jason Teague, making a mental note to buy a new car with the money he was being paid to go on this time-traveling mission, stepped out and closed the door behind him. He sauntered up to the tall gates and, pulling out a metal key, irritably unlocked the elaborate padlock keeping everything within the fence boundaries safe.

As he entered the dull and, to some, intimidating building, a pair of almond-shaped brown eyes peeked out from the bed of his truck. Having seen Jason walk out of the Kent house from the loft, she had taken advantage of the opportunity to follow him in the bed of his own truck. She could've followed him a different way, but there was a risk, however slight, that the Kents would've seen something they shouldn't if she had used the mode of transportation she would've preferred.

Keeping her eyes on Jason's back as he disappeared into the warehouse, Megan jumped quietly out of the truck and scampered stealthily up to the building, marveling along the way at Jason's carelessness at having left the gates unlocked (not that it would've stopped her if he hadn't), she found a metal ladder attached to the left side of the building. _This place hasn't really changed much, or rather won't change much_, she mused to herself.

Grateful for the adventures she had had in an older version of the exact same warehouse that had given her an extremely accurate knowledge of the layout, she climbed the ladder swiftly. Once atop the three-story building, she spotted the familiar stairwell and rushed towards it. Once inside, she closed the door quickly but softly and walked down the stairs in a similar fashion. Megan half-smiled to herself when she found herself in the main personnel atrium, at the opposite end of which was a wide door. She approached this door at a wide gait and opened it with careful silence just enough to get a good view. There was an immense inventory storage rack between her and the six men she had come to observe, which was all the better to keep her concealed without hindering her ability to hear. Peering out from the narrow space she allowed herself, she focused her attention on the enemies before her.

"What the hell do you think this is, Teague?" bellowed Vincent Edge. "Some time-travel road trip?" He closed the distance between him and Jason. "You can get laid anytime you want in the present. Why you feel the need to jeopardize this whole operation for your horny pleasure is beyond me. But if you hope to get out of this alive, you'd better seriously rethink your habits!"

Jason was visibly intimidated, but he tried to mask it with a calm voice. "I don't know why it matters as long as no one Lana knows saw me."

Vincent's eyes shot daggers, and his face grew red. "Luthor had his nosy spies at those clubs!" He shoved a manila folder full of photographs in Jason's face. "They have pictures of you fooling around with all these women!"

Jason backed up, somewhat surprised. "How did Luthor do that? I was very watchful the whole time."

Edge threw his hands up. "Unbelievable!" he shouted. "Let me give you a little tip, Teague," he said in a mock mentor-like tone, "Lex Luthor has always been a very resourceful and clever man, even when he was as naïve as he is now."

Jason opened his mouth to make a presumably weak attempt to defend himself, but he thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut.

Vincent tossed the folder on a nearby table and picked up a second folder. "Thanks to you, we had to meet Luthor for the first time about 13 years early and blackmail him with these pictures of his meteorite-mutant lab!" He slammed this second folder back on the table next to the first collection of incriminating pictures.

Megan eyed the table. Her best bet was to get her hands on those pictures, but they would likely prove hard to keep track of once they left the warehouse. She could easily snatch them from under their very noses, but not without as much as making her presence known. She wanted to keep the potential element of surprise on her side as long as possible. All she needed was for all four of them to turn their backs on the table for a mere second, and she could grab the tell-tale photos and be gone before they ever saw her.

The most intelligent-looking of the six men, a rather lanky one with neat brown hair and inquisitive gray eyes, stepped forward. "I must say I'm disappointed in you, Vincent. I thought you were better at choosing employees than this. I told you we should've trained him more."

"Shut your trap, Phillips," snapped Edge. "You know as well as I do we didn't have time. That time portal would only be open for so long."

"Then you should have chosen a more readily prepared candidate for the job," growled Phillips. "We had a deal. I get the subject of the study of a lifetime, and you get an unusually powerful pest out of your hair without having an actual murder on your hands. I fund the whole thing."

"I remember our bargain, Phillips," Vincent said with annoyance.

"Then do it right!"

Vincent waved his hand in a distinctive manner, and Phillips promptly found three pistols aimed directly at his head. "Let's get one thing straight," said Vincent. "You are not the boss of this operation. We are partners." Vincent paused in mock pensiveness. "Scratch that. We're not even partners. I'm the one calling the shots here. You may have the money, but I have the ammunition." He grinned and let a soft but unmistakably sinister cackle escape his lips. "And you!" he turned back to Jason. "Both me and Phillips get something out of this, so I'll be just as mad as he will if you screw this up!" Once again, Vincent eliminated Jason's personal space. "The difference is, Phillips may just throw a fit and shout at you for a good two hours. I'll just shoot you in less than two minutes."

Though she was still listening, Megan had kept her eyes on the two manila folders on the table. Feeling the need for action growing, she dared to scan the warehouse for anything that may inspire a plan. Just as she thought it would be to no avail, she spotted a large keg of explosive natural gas sitting on a middle shelf of the inventory rack perpendicular to the one that was between her and her adversaries. An idea quickly formed in her mind, and while it didn't exactly guarantee that her presence wouldn't be deduced, it was the most inconspicuous way she could think of.

Megan centered her view on the keg. Her eyes turned orange, and a beam of heat was emitted from each eye. Both laser-like heat beams hit her target. After two seconds of being bombarded with heat, the can of gas exploded. The perfect diversion.

All six men immediately jumped. Jason, Vincent, and Phillipsdropped to the floor, while the three gunmen whirled around and cocked their weapons. In that same moment, Megan ran out, grabbed the two manila folders, and disappeared back into the personnel atrium…all in about two blinks of an eye! By the time the men realized that the explosion was an isolated albeit suspicious event and the danger had subsided, Megan was long gone. The men turned to Vincent, Jason, and Phillips as they were rising to their feet.

"What was that?" Vincent Edge demanded.

The three gunmen eyed each other, searching for a satisfactory answer that would suffice until they figured out what had really happened. But before they could answer, Jason blurted, "The pictures!"

Vincent and Phillips looked at the table to find it completely bare.

Vincent's face twisted into a frustrated and rather angry snarl. "Search the place," he commanded darkly, a knowing look on his face. "Somebody was here. I know it."

But by then, Megan was already halfway back to the Kent farm, clutching both folders full of incriminating photographs.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Megan shook her head at the scandalous pictures she held before her. The first manila folder, which contained very incriminating photos of a secret LuthorCorp laboratory where many meteor mutants were being held and experimented on, some against their will, had really been no big surprise. It wasn't news at all to her that Lex Luthor was a scumbag-in-training. The contents of the second parcel, however, were slightly more shocking. Part of her wanted to beat the crud out of Jason for treating her mother like that, but another was grateful for his blatant and unabashed infidelity. It was, after all, that blatant disloyalty that would surely give her mother more than enough reason to end the relationship she was never meant to have in the first place.

Of course, it didn't make it any easier that Megan would have to be the one to somehow deliver the evidence and, with it, the news of Jason's betrayal to her own mother. Her mother would certainly be hurt, and she hated to be the messenger that caused it, even if it was in secret. "I'm sorry, Mom," she said, almost wishing Lana could actually hear her, "But I promise there's a lot more that you'd miss out on if I didn't do this." Sighing, she briefly restacked the photos and closed the folder. She then picked up the other parcel and, looking around the loft to make sure there would be no witnesses, used her heat vision to set aflame the blackmail that had kept Lex Luthor quiet.

She held the pictures as they burned. There was no inflammable container in sight, and the floor of the loft was made of wood planks. Thus, she just let the parcel turn black and eventually crumble to ashes down to the corner where her fingers gripped it. There, the fire burned itself out upon contact with her impenetrable and inflammable skin. She used her thumb to muff out the last of the flames before she let the tiny corner that remained fall to the floor.

It was now little more than a matter of how to get the pictures in her mom's hands. The unwritten rules of time travel mandated that, if one absolutely must influence surrounding events, that one does so in the most indirect way possible. Personally delivering the evidence to her mother was out of the question. There had to be an intermediary; someone to whom she could anonymously give the photos who she knew would pass them along to Lana.

Yet therein lay another dilemma. Any such intermediary would become an unwitting target for the men who were working to prevent her existence, and her conscience wouldn't have that.

Sighing once more, Megan ultimately resigned herself to the lesser of two evils. She would leave the pictures in her mother's home for her to find, perhaps with an anonymous note saying something like, "I'm sorry, but you should know the truth."

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Megan turned to find Martha Kent climbing the last step to the loft. "Megan?" said her unknowing grandmother.

"Yeah, Mrs. Kent?" replied Megan.

"I just came up to tell you that dinner's ready if you're hungry."

"Thanks," Megan smiled. "I'm starving, actually."

"I suppose it takes a lot of energy to work against time travelers who are plotting to practically wipe you off the face of the Earth," Martha observed with a sad smile. "Are you making any headway?"  
"I think I am," Megan nodded. "It's just…not going to be easy leaving these for my mom to find. She's going to be crushed."

Martha's interest intensified. "Why? What'd you find out?"

Megan pursed her lips and handed her a manila folder. "Lex Luthor had one of his guys spy on Jason. It turns out fidelity isn't exactly his strong suit."

Martha opened the folder, and her eyes widened at what she saw. "I should say so," she remarked, looking disapprovingly at the pictures as she flipped through them briefly. "Poor Lana."

"I really hate that I have to do this, but this is the only way I can think of to get my mom to break up with him on her own. I can't just walk up to her and say, 'Hi. I'm your daughter who's traveled back in time. Your boyfriend is really from the future, and he's part of a plot to keep me from being born by keeping you from getting back together with my dad. So you need to break up with Jason and marry my dad.'"

"Why didn't Lex tell her?" asked Martha.

"The guys that are after me got some really good dirt on him and basically blackmailed him with it."

Martha scowled regretfully. "Lex is basically a good guy. I just wish he wouldn't get involved in all this shady business."

"Don't hold your breath," Megan said. "By the way, where did my mom live when she was the age she is now?"

"She lived in an apartment above the Talon," said Martha. "I could drive you there after supper if you want."

"I think I'd better drive myself. You making a trip you otherwise wouldn't have might have repercussions." _Plus, it would be faster just to super-speed there_, Megan thought to herself.

"Good point," Martha agreed. "I'm not sure if she'll be home or not. You might have to wait until some time when we know she's gone somewhere."

"I'll snoop around. I'm good at being sneaky," Megan smirked, inwardly knowing that sneakiness was a cover-up for her x-ray vision.

"You sure?" Martha asked.

"Yeah. Trust me. I've had experience."

"Alright," her grandmother nodded. "Let's go eat before dinner gets cold."

Martha turned back towards the stairs and began descension, and Megan followed. Halfway down the steps, a thought struck Martha. "You said 'back together'?" she remarked.

"What?" responded Megan.

"You said you couldn't just tell your mother to break up with Jason and get back together with your dad. Has Lana dated your dad before?"  
Megan stopped dead in her tracks, a mild panic showing on her face. "I really shouldn't have said that! Mrs. Kent, could you please just try to forget I said that?"

"I guess I shouldn't have asked," Martha admitted. "I'll do my best to forget it."

"Thanks," Megan said sincerely, not entirely convinced that her slip wouldn't come back to haunt her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"What's on your mind, Martha?" asked Jonathan as he gathered up the last of the dishes and set them on the counter next to the sink.

Martha gave him a gentle smile as she looked briefly at the back door through which Megan had left promptly after dinner in order to "deliver" the incriminating photos that were to save her existence. Her husband always seemed to know when something was vexing her. "I guess I just can't help but wonder why anyone would want to get rid of Megan. I mean, a 16-year-old girl isn't much of a threat to the kind hardened criminals she seems to be dealing with. There's got to be something special about her. I mean, I'm sure she's special as a person anyway,…but…you know what I mean."

Jonathan nodded. "You think she may have been affected by the meteor rocks?"

Martha paused. Try as she might to forget them, Megan's words still rang in her ears. To keep her Mom from getting back together with her dad, she had said. The word "back" echoed in her mind. Martha was no expert on Lana's love life, but nor was she completely ignorant of the lives of her son's close friends. To her knowledge, Lana had so far only had about four love interests to speak of, among whom Clark was one. Megan's statement, coupled with the fact that hardened criminals, for some mysterious reason, considered her a threat worth time-traveling to get rid of, had brought her to vaguely wonder. Could it be…? She contemplated telling Jonathan of her suspicions, but thought the better of it. If Megan wanted her to forget it, she certainly didn't want Jonathan to know. Plus, as she was sure her husband would tell her, her suspicions were built on rather slight evidence and quite possibly influenced by hopeful thinking. So, Martha merely resigned herself to replying, "Something like that."

Jonathan opened his mouth to respond, but a knock at the door stopped him. Martha, who was closest to it, stepped in front of it and saw Jason through the glass panes of the door. Throwing a glance at Jonathan, she sighed and opened the door, prepared to begin another unpleasant bout of feigning ignorance to Jason's true intentions. But before she even had time to put on a fake smile, Jason had abruptly stepped in, turned her around violently, gripped her tightly by the waist, and pressed the barrel of a shiny pistol to her temple. "Stay put or become a widower," he said loudly to Jonathan.

The farmer hesitated for a moment, his eyes met Martha's briefly as he stared at Jason. "I'm not moving," he said as calmly as he could. "But just so you know, I know all about where, or rather when, you're from."

"Oh, you do, do you?" Jason smirked evilly. "Well, that'll make this a little easier." He cocked his gun. "Pick up the phone!"

Jonathan did as he was told.

"569…842…5643," instructed Jason

Jonathan dialed the number and put the phone to his ear. After three rings, Megan's voice answered with a cautious "Hello."

"Ask her where she is."

"Megan, this is Mr. Kent. Where are you right now?"

"At the Talon," she answered slowly, puzzlement sounding in her voice. "Wait. How did you get this number?"

"She's at the Talon," Jonathan reported hesitantly.

"Tell her I'm here and she's got 10 seconds from the time you hang up to get back here with those pictures or grandma here gets a bullet in her head. I mean it!"

Jonathan swallowed and glared at Jason, telling him wordlessly that if and when the status quo changed, he would promptly do whatever he could to stop him. "Megan, Jason's here. He's holding a gun to Martha's head, and he says you've got 10 seconds to from the time I hang up to get here with the pictures before he shoots."

"Literally."

"Literally, he says," Jonathan said, somewhat shocked. The Talon was several miles from the farm. Surely, he didn't mean…

"Hang up, NOW!"

Jonathan did as he was told.

Jason turned his face to Martha's ear, his hot breath a very unwelcome sensation on her cheek. "Ten,…nine,…eight…"

Jonathan couldn't believe what he was hearing. Even the most evil person he'd ever seen didn't expect someone to travel that distance in under a minute! Helplessly torn, he stood there, half-ready to spring into action, while Martha tearfully fought as best she could under Jason's tight grip. Then, Jason had barely uttered "two" when something (or someone) darted past him in a flash almost too fast for the human eye to detect, and almost before he had time to register what had happened, he witnessed Megan appear seemingly out of nowhere. In one swift motion, she wrenched Martha free, grabbed Jason roughly by the jacket, and threw him like a rag doll across the kitchen. Jonathan and Martha clutched each other, still somewhat in awe of Megan's speed and strength as well as the overall situation. Meanwhile, the girl who had yet to be born placed the tell-tale manila folder on the counter and approached Jason as he slumped against the wall, standing over him at a wide stance. In that moment, Martha saw something that furthered her suspicions about her paternity. Megan regarded her opponent with a resolved, out-from-under-the-eyebrows look of determination and righteous anger that was strikingly familiar. The features were almost all Lana's, but there was something distinctly Clark-like about the expression they formed.

Silently realizing that all pretenses about her humanity or superhumanity were now pointless, Megan hardly hesitated in grabbing Jason by the collar with one hand and lifting him up so that his feet dangled about a foot or two above the floor. As if on cue, two armed henchmen burst in and aimed their weapons squarely at the Kents. Jonathan, who was moving to retrieve Jason's pistol, retreated and instinctively moved Martha behind him.

"So, how much is Edge paying you?" Megan asked dryly.

"Five million," Jason replied with equal dryness. "Which is exactly why I can't have your mother breaking up with me so she can reconcile with that freak you have for a father."

"What is your problem? People like you don't see my father for the hero that he is. You don't see all the good he does for humanity. All you see is a walking science experiment!"

"You're right," Jason stated defiantly. "He's the scientific study of a lifetime! The only thing that would be more rewarding to probe and dissect than the last surviving Kryptonian is a Krypto-human hybrid." Slowly and stealthily, he reached into his jacket pocket. "Which is why I'm quite proud to do this." With that, he opened the lead box he had drawn out to reveal an all-too familiar meteorite emitting a healthy green glow. He breathed a triumphant sigh as Megan's grip gave way and his feet landed roughly on the floor. Megan stepped back clumsily and stopped to lean on the range for support. Despite herself, she let out a small groan as she tried to maintain her resolve.

Jason stepped up to her. "Megan Kent: Daddy's little supergirl…" he marveled malevolently just before he slapped her with the back of his hand so hard she collapsed onto the floor. Looming over her, he placed the kryptonite on her chest and hissed, "You're coming with me, you half-Kryptonian brat!"

Megan grunted and caught Martha's eye. Martha looked at her with sympathy and love in her eyes. Noticing the gun that was still pointed at her head, Megan looked tragically at her. "I'm so sorry,…Grandma," she said weakly.


End file.
